


sauntering vaguely downwards

by clarakent (niewanyin)



Series: Omega Tim Week 2019 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha Helena Bertinelli, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Coffee Shops, Fluff and Angst, Guardian Angels, M/M, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Tim Drake, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niewanyin/pseuds/clarakent
Summary: Dick is a guardian angel and Tim is his charge.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson
Series: Omega Tim Week 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549573
Comments: 22
Kudos: 235





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to inkyubus and Myosotis for beating this! Written for the **Fantasy** prompt for Omega Tim Week.
> 
> I don't know when the next chapter will be up, this fic turned into a monster.
> 
> Yes, the title is a reference to Good Omens.

The thing about being a guardian angel is that it can really fucking _suck_ at times. Dick loves it, but often times it feels like all he's doing is trying to help people who really don't want to help.

Like Tim Drake, who seems to think a healthy sleep schedule is a mere suggestion and not something that a human being actually needs. Or that a person should be getting three good meals a day. Or that when you’re upset, you talk to the person you have a problem with and don’t accept their anger is an innate failing on your part and something that you will have to simply accept as something that makes you bad.

Tim Drake cares so little for his mental and emotional health that Dick really feels like he has a little choice other than to disguise himself as a human to encourage him to live a healthy lifestyle so that Dick can consider this another successful charge.

He opts to do this by getting the one job that ensure that he has constant contact with Tim Drake.

A barista at the cafe a block away from Tim’s apartment.

“Welcome to Jim’s!” Dick says brightly at 6:45 in the morning while Tim is bundled in three sweaters and a scarf. Tim glares at him, apparently taking offense at Dick’s attitude. He looks about two seconds away from growling. Scratch that, he actually is, just very low in his throat. “What can I get you today?”

“Grape latte, six shots of espresso.”

_Good God, what is he doing to his body?_

He’s certain the horror is clear on his face, and Tim’s only response is a raised eyebrow.

Dick attempts to plaster a smile onto his face. “One . . . grape latte with six shots of espresso coming up.”

“Thanks,” Tim mutters, shoving bills at Dick. “Keep the change.”

It’s thirty dollars for a five dollar latte, and now Dick understands why despite Tim’s absolutely terrible taste buds, everyone perked up when he walked into the cafe. Dick doesn’t actually need this money to survive, as a guardian angel his home is actually a pocket of reality that he makes and shapes to his will, so he makes sure to give his share to some of his fellow co-workers, just like he’s making sure that the money that is in his paycheck is going to an omega shelter.

The other two employees at this time are college students who need the time to study and relax, so Dick waves off their offers to help as he makes the truly horrific latte, grimacing at the purple color in the milk as he steams it. He nearly gags as he adds the espresso.

He watches with terror and awe as Tim grabs the drink from his hand and brings it to his lips.

He can’t help but smile as Tim smiles at him as soon as it hits his tongue. “Thanks,” he says, already sounding more alert just to have his security coffee in hand. “It’s really good.”

“You’re welcome!” Dick answers, rocking on the balls of his feet as he realizes that Tim is actually receptive to his work. Step one is complete! Tim nods as a salutation, licking his lips to catch a bit of purple foam on his lips, pink tongue darting out and Dick can’t look away for some reason.

Well, he knows the reason.

When he was alive, pretty, petite, dark-haired omegas were his weakness.

*

Guardian angels are not exactly angels as most people define them. It’s not the shimmering balls of pure light that were created in the dawn of the universe, but rather people who died tragically and young and who were just so good that the beings who run the universe decided that it was a good idea if they spent the first part of their afterlife helping others realize the mistakes of their lives.

Dick Grayson was many things in his life, and one of those was Sergeant Richard Grayson. He died D-Day, landing on the beach and fighting to help free the world from the evil known as fascism.

He died carrying a friend to safety, choosing them over himself. This friend made it back from the war, and is currently now ninety-three years old. He has a successful marriage of over seventy years, and had five children, twelve grandchildren, twenty-three great-grandchildren, and right now has four great-great-great-grandchildren.

Every generation has a Richard John.

*

Dick is glad to see that Tim likes his horrifying drink, and he feels well enough to execute another stage in his plan to save Tim’s life.

(Perhaps literally, _six espresso shots_?)

He waits until the moment his shift is done and zaps to Tim’s office. With literally just a snap of his fingers, he’s invisible and able to watch Tim Drake . . . sleep curled up underneath his desk.

Holy fuck, he’s adorable.

His face is flushed and he’s holding onto a piece of black cloth that is clearly Batman’s cape, stolen when Bruce Wayne wasn’t looking (but that Bruce absolutely knows about and it never fails to make him smile whenever he thinks about it). Dick would estimate that Tim started his heat two hours and seventeen minutes ago, and it looks like he’s in mild discomfort, but otherwise totally fine.

Tim can no longer take suppressants because he has no spleen, but he doesn’t want his family to know either of those facts. Dick mentally moves it to the top of his list on ways to better Tim’s life.

 _Better emotional honesty_.

That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Dick bends down and presses his hand against Tim’s forehead. The human is warm, and even though Dick’s an angel and suppose to be above mortal temptations, he can smell how amazing Tim is right now.

Dick was a healthy young alpha back in the day, and he had more than a few flings with omegas. He loved burying his face in their hair, and kissing their neck and making them laugh.

And Tim looks exactly like his type. He really did loved them slender and black-haired and blue-eyed.

Oh, he absolutely can't go down this path. It would be going against every code of ethics he has to be attracted to one of his charges, but he can't help the fact that Tim is so very beautiful.

He pulls his hand back, intent on finding someone to help Tim. Perhaps he can get Bruce to come downstairs and get Tim started on that better emotional honesty with his family as he informs them about his suppressants and his complete lack of a spleen.

But of course, Tim has to wake up then. His eyes blink with pain and confusion, clearly half out of it in his heat, but he still has enough presence of mind to turn his head and see Dick and more than that, recognize him.

He jerks back, but he can only go so far when he's in heat and curled up underneath his desk. "Wha' are you doing here?" he slurs. "You're a barista, you shouldn't be here."

God, he's smart and Dick's mind is completely blank right now. He can't think of a single good excuse for why he could be here, and he can't make Tim forget him as a barista. That would set so many things back, so Dick gives a smile that he hopes looks somewhat comforting, and not like he’s a strange alpha stalking Tim for no reason.

Which is the truth.

He has a good reason to be stalking him.

Dick holds a finger up to his lips, and Tim does not look comforted.

“What the hell?” Tim growls out. “Who the _hell_ are you?”

Dick sees no other option other than to tell the truth, which is something that absolutely can’t happen.

He’s going to have to make Tim forget about him, and he raises his hand to snap this all away for Tim.

And then another wave of heat hits Tim, forcing him to curl up in a small ball as he whimpers from the pain.

Dick lowers his hand. This poor kid. No spleen means no suppressants and birth control that is uncertain to work and the only relief from his heats is an alpha’s knot and pregnancy.

“Can I get someone?” he asks softly. “Do you want your father?”

Tim shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a whimper.

He does. Dick knows it. But he can’t bear to show weakness in front of the strongest man he knows, not realizing that Bruce wouldn’t judge him for that weakness.

“Do you want to go home?”

Tim nods, but keeps his eyes on Dick. He doesn’t trust him, it’s perfectly clear. Dick sighs. “Look, let me help you up and I’ll explain what I’m doing here.”

Tim’s eyes flicker away from Dick though they come back to look at him soon enough, and once again, Dick can read the problem.

“You can’t stand up, can you?”

The humiliation is clear. Tim shakes his head. “Look, I’m not going to make fun of you for this. Both my parents were omegas. I have experience with bad heats. Let me just help you up.” He stretches out his hand, which Tim eyes before grasping it and letting Dick pull him into a bridal carry.

God, Tim needs to eat more.

“You can just get me into a cab,” Tim mumbles. “I’ll figure it out from there.”

He’s literally falling asleep in a stranger’s arms as he says this. Does he have no concern for his personal safety? Tim just mmurphs when he points it out, even if he starts nuzzling into Dick’s neck. “You warm,” he slurs out of his mouth next, so Dick doubts he’s really that offended.

Dick laughs. “Thanks. You are too.”

This time, Tim mmurphs with happiness.

Sneaking Tim out of the building would be hard if Dick was mortal and had to play by those silly rules. As a guardian angel, all it takes is a snap of his fingers and he’s in Tim’s bedroom, with a glass of water next to his bed. A small bowl of grapes is next to it, and Tim sighs heavily when Dick slides him under the covers.

He’s almost asleep, mouth in a frown as he registers that something isn’t right with how quickly he found himself in a bed, but it’s clear that he isn’t going to think to hard about it.

Dick just makes sure to tuck Tim carefully in, have Tim “accidentally” call his brother (Jason, the one that won’t say anything) and then hang up, and then leaves the apartment.

*

He meets Jason a day later. It’s a slow period in the cafe, too early for a lot of people coming to hang out, but too late for customers coming to get their morning fix. He’s speed reading the entire Harry Potter series, something he’s missed out on until now.

Jason Wayne. 5’11”, black hair with a white strip, teal eyes, pale skin. Omega, didn’t present until after the Lazarus Pit. Loves his family fiercely, has an issue saying it.

Dick is 95% certain that he is here because Tim told him that Dick got him home after he went into heat, and when Jason locks on Dick and scowls, he knows it without a doubt.

There is an extremely good chance that Dick is about to be punched.

He strides over to Dick, and leans in close. Dick has a few inches on him, but he knows that Jason Peter Wayne is a good fighter. Still, he didn’t survive D-Day, but he survived a hell of a lot before that, and he can handle a simple human in a fight. The powers he was given after his death increased his strength and stamina tenfold.

He had joined the force as soon as he turned eighteen, and signed up for the army as soon as Pearl Harbor was bombed.

And then D-Day.

His death day.

He's just glad that his parents had Erica.

His little sister was an incredible woman, strong and opinionated. She had grown up to be one hell of a lawyer, fighting for the rights of the poor and disenfranchised, and gotten arrested many times as a civil rights activist. She had married and had two daughters of her own, Ella and Moira. They both had children of their own, one of whom, Lois, so strongly reminded of Dick of Ric that it brought tears to his eyes. She was just like her, fighting for the rights of people who couldn't fight, just on the front page instead of the courtroom.

Lois, he's very proud to say, has been arrested a few times herself.

Ella must have seen it too, because Lois was born Lois Erica Lane and she still has that name to this day. An alpha (just like Ric), and married to an omega named Clark Kent and with a son named Jon Lane, also an omega.

(So Dick checks up on her a lot, sue him.)

“Look,” Jason hisses, pulling him from memories, eyes locked on Dick. “I don’t know why you were in his office yesterday. It freaks me the fuck out and I don’t trust you. But thank you for bringing him home and not doing anything. But also stay the hell away from him, or I _will_ hurt you.”

Dick blinks at him, surprised that his eye isn’t black yet. Then he nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Jason leans back, watching him warily, clearly not expecting him to have acquiesced so easily. “What _were_ you doing there?”

Dick looks at Jason, blinks, and then snaps his fingers. Jason won’t ever think about how this is odd again.

The omega takes a deep breath, and his legs begin to shake. Dick guides him to a chair, as Jason blinks, his brain reshuffling thoughts and memories around. He’s dazed, and this will give him a migraine, but everything will return to how it should be.

It takes him a minute for him to snap out of the daze, but soon enough a groan, a wince, and the rubbing of his forehead happens. He glances up at Dick in confusion, and the alpha smiles. “Look, why don't you go back to Tim's place and get some rest? You look really pale."

Jason nods. "Yeah. . . . Yeah, that's a good idea."

He stands up, and Dick can see that his legs are shaking. "I should . . . I should go back. Take care of Tim. It's a really bad heat."

Dick nods. "Of course. Do you need help?"

Jason shakes his head. "I'll be okay."

Dick still frowns. "You want a drink? I can make Tim's grape latte with six espresso shots as well."

"No, I-" Jason stills. "I'm sorry, _what_ does he drink?"

*

After Jason leaves, with two hot chocolates and some muttering about how Tim is going to die from espresso poisoning, Dick finishes up his shift with no more confrontations from Tim’s angry family members. As soon as it’s done, he snaps his fingers to arrive in Tim’s apartment, fully invisible.

He creeps through the apartment, making sure with an added snap that no one could hear him. He finds Tim and Jason in Tim’s bed, Tim curled up in Jason’s arms as his body rides out this heat and Jason holding him close. They’re both asleep, the soft scent of two omegas curling together.

Dick can’t stop the smile appearing from his face as he stares at Tim’s face, peaceful in his sleep. He doesn’t know exactly how long he stands there looking at him, but eventually he forces himself to snap out of it, shaking his head and snapping away.

Part of being a guardian angel is crossing boundaries that they never would have as a human, but Dick knows that there’s nothing here that he would ever need as a guardian to help Tim.

He snaps away.

*

Tim comes back to him as soon as his heat ends, stumbling into the cafe. He blinks blearily around the cafe, and his shoulders slump with relief when he sees Dick. He walks toward him, and Dick is honestly worried that he’s going to collapse. In truth, he thinks the heat might still be going on.

There’s a slowly curling of the scent of heat around Tim as he stumbles into Dick’s side, blinking up at him. Dick reaches out to steady him, and the young omega hums. “Thank,” he mumbles. “I want to thank you for helping me.”

“You’re welcome,” Dick responds, “but are you sure you still shouldn’t be in bed?”

Tim shrugs. “Maybe. I snuck out. Jason is still sleeping.”

Oh fuck, this is not going to be pretty. Tim just presses his face in Dick’s chest. “You’re warm,” he giggles. “And tall.” He sighs. “And really strong. You’re really strong for a barista. Big arms. Can you carry me?”

Okay, wow, so the lack of spleen also removes the _filter_ in heat, not that there’s always much of one anyway. Dick just holds Tim close to him, and snaps to turn them invisible and makes sure that no one notices or notices their absence. Tim doesn’t register a thing, just wraps his arms around Dick’s middle and sighs. He nuzzles into the chest, and yawns.

God, he’s definitely not out of his heat. Dick sighs, and lifts Tim with ease. He really needs to eat more. Tim just presses his face into Dick’s shoulder and hums with happiness.

God, he wants to tell him. He stills, and then shakes the thought out of his head.

It only takes a few minutes to get Tim back to his apartment. He doesn’t want to just pop in on the off chance that Jason is awake, but when he opens the door using Tim’s keys, he thinks he might be in the clear.

Except Jason is wide awake in the living room talking to someone on the phone, and Bruce-fucking-Wayne is glaring at a computer screen from he sits on the couch. They both look at Dick when he walks in with a sleepy, feverish Tim in his arms, and upon seeing how comfortable Tim looks in the arms of this virtual stranger (or in Bruce’s case, _actual_ stranger), they get downright murderous.

“What the fuck?” Jason hisses, and Bruce is off the couch and grabbing Tim from his arms and holding him close before Dick can blink, needing to protect him from the strange man. Dick’s research has determined that Bruce only succeeds in being a good dad about 67.38% of the time. His determination to protect his children and his willingness to die for them is a remarkable 102.93%.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason hisses. "What are you doing with Tim?"

Dick holds up his hands. He can take Jason out with arm tied around his back, being a healthy twenty-seven year old alpha for almost eighty years has given him a lot of time to gather a great deal of martial arts training. He knows how to fight, but he doubts the barista Dick knows how to fight well enough to take down the Red Hood.

And Jason is angry as hell right now, snarling at Dick and refusing to let him get close to Tim who's sleeping in Bruce's arms.

"I wasn't doing anything," Dick tries to explain calmly. "He came to the cafe himself and I brought him straight here because I thought you would be worried when you woke up."

Tim mumbles and shuffles in his sleep, and Bruce grips him just a little tighter.

Bruce and Jason share a quick glance, and then Jason nods. "Thanks," he mutters gruffly. "But you can go. We got it from here."

He essentially pushes Dick out the door, shutting the door in his face.

Shit on a fucking stick.

This is _bad_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank zukachi for reading this through.

In Tim's dream, there's a man. He doesn't know his name. He doesn't know what he looks like. He just knows that he's a kind man.

Tim feels nothing but warm in this man's presence. In fact, that's all the man is. A big ball of warm, white light. How Tim even knows that it's a man, he can't say, much like he can't say how he knows he's kind. It just feels like one of those foundational truths to the universe. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, the moon moves the tides, and the stars are light years away. And the man in Tim's dreams is there to protect him.

He wakes up in Jason's arms, his big brother playing with his hair as Tim tries to figure out what's going on. Then a cramp ripples through him and it all comes back to him in terrible clarity. Fuck, his heat. His stupid, fucking heat that suppressants will no longer help with because he has no spleen, so his heats hit hard and fast and there's nothing he can do except ride them out. He whines as he curls up, burying his face into Jason's chest as another cramp hits him.

"Shit," he whimpers. "This is the fucking _worst._ "

Jason rubs his back, purring to relax him. It is actually helping, so Tim doesn't say anything even though he hates being so weak in front of him. He never wants to be weak in front of Jason. It's always been the worst idea. Being weak means that Tim will probably get his ass kicked in a million different ways while Jason tells him all the ways that he's a pathetic piece of shit.

Tim had never meant to replace Jason. When he noticed how destructive Batman was becoming after Robin's "disappearance," he had just wanted to do something, _anything,_ to prevent Bruce from killing himself, whoever he had to do it. He didn't even have a plan beyond showing Bruce pictures of all the good things he had done and how he couldn't do it anymore if he was dead. Bruce had shut the door in his face, but Alfred had opened it right back up, agreeing with Tim that Batman needed something to keep him in line. In Alfred's opinion, he needed someone.

Becoming Robin's a blur in Tim's memory, but he just remembers Alfred's pride in him when he had saved Bruce from Two-Face, and the way that Bruce automatically valued him more than his parents ever had. He had been helpless to refuse becoming Robin, even though he can see how in hindsight it was a bad idea, and Jason might not see it as continuing a legacy, but replacing Jason for a better son.

But lately, it's started to become part of the past. He and Jason are still on shaky ground, but he hasn't really felt unsafe with Jason in ages. And he's in Jason's arms, so maybe things are going to be okay.

"Thanks," he whispers. "You're a good brother."

Jason just keeps rubbing his back. "You gave us quite a scare, baby bird. Something about spleens and bad heats?"

He closes his eyes. He knows that he's in his own bed, but he also knows that Bruce would have given him a complete medical workup, and would have put two and two together. Tim just clutches his stomach and sighs. "It's not exactly pleasant for me."

His fever gets really high and he can't retain any sort of mental control on himself, if his memories of leaving this apartment and going to see Hot Barista Dick are correct. He produces so much slick that he feels in constant need of a shower, but he can only really feel static in his mind. He's relatively lucid now, but he's going to dip back into a bad heat any moment, losing his mind as he begs for the slightest relief that he can.

And this is just his constant state of being, because his body won't process the necessary antibodies to accept suppressants.

He's not looking forward to what he's going to be like an hour from now, and he sends a mental apology to Jason.

Jason's other hand comes up to wipe hair off his face, and Tim's eyes flutter as he takes in the scent of apples and cherries. It's a calming scent, especially when it's not tainted with the rot of the Lazarus Pit. He hears shuffling behind him, and he smells blackberries and sunshine before he feels Bruce's hand land on his shoulder. "Tim, are you awake?"

He feels half asleep already, but he manages to nod. "Yeah," he mumbles into the pillow that is Jason's chest. "'M 'wake."

Bruce laughs. "Buddy, you're about to conk out." Something is tucked around Tim, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's a blanket. He sighs as he smiles, and for the first time in a long time, something feels right. Bruce used to take care of him like this throughout his heats, before he "died," but then it was left for Tim to take care of himself. And he didn't want Bruce to see what he was like sans-spleen in heat, so he avoided his father whenever he could.

He regrets that.

Tim whines when his father takes his hand off his shoulder, unwilling to leave the comfort and warmth of Jason, but too dependent on Bruce's in his heat to really abandon it.

Jason just sighs. "You better get in here, old man." He shifts just slightly, and Tim starts to purr in delight as he thinks about being between his father and brother.

Both Bruce and Jason laugh, and he doesn't care.

Bruce's strong arms encircle him as well as Jason's, and Tim feels his heat fire back up again, relief that he can be happy and warm and safe with his family, and that he won't turn into someone desperate and needy, not with them.

He falls asleep only a few seconds later.

*

He wakes up on top of Bruce. His father is sleeping and snoring, keeping Tim close to him like he's a stuffed animal. It reminds Tim of his early teenage years, when Bruce was the only person who cared about him as an actual person, not for what he could mean for their future prospects. He smells breakfast, and he's pretty sure that's Jason. He debates if he needs to get up, but he's really comfortable on Bruce and he doesn't think it's the biggest necessity.

He just resettles and grips Bruce's shirt, desperate to feel protected like he once did.

"Baby bird, I know you're awake."

But does he have to be? But Jason's voice is too commanding for him to ignore, so he blinks his eyes open to find his big brother wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron and holding a spatula.

Tim knows for a fact that he doesn't own either of those things.

He whines low in his throat, hoping to get sympathy from Jason. Bruce's arm automatically tightens around him, but Jason just raises an unamused eyebrow before he snaps his fingers. "Get off of Bruce, and come into the kitchen. You need to eat while you're lucid."

Who the hell allowed Jason to make common sense? It's annoying and Tim revolts against it. Though not actually because Jason is feeding him and Tim doesn't like to upset the people that feed him. With a frustrated sigh, he peels himself off Bruce, who snorts awake and looks around wildly before he realizes that Tim is actually just moving, flushing with embarrassment.

Jason blinks in surprise, clearly unaccustomed to seeing Bruce so human, and a pang of sadness rolls through Tim. Their father often doesn't like to let his guard down, but him taking care of Tim throughout his heats meant so much in part because of _how_ he took care of Tim.

He was human in a way that Tim had never seen elsewhere, throwing all of himself in making Tim feel special and cared for, especially when his parents deliberately avoided the country when he was in heat. But Jason hadn't presented until after the Pit, so all the bonding moments that Tim looked back on fondly, Jason never got.

Tim thinks that was also part of the reason why Jason hated him a lot in the beginning. He hadn't replaced him in that case, but he had gotten something that Jason would have done anything to have.

Jason doesn't say anything as he turns on his heels and walks back to the kitchen. Bruce and Tim follow him silently.

It's only as he's putting the homemade cinnamon rolls (clearly the one who listened to Alfred's cooking lessons) that he asks, "What's the deal with the barista?"

Bruce turns to look at him as well, and Tim flushes a deep red. "What do you mean?" he asks, but his voice is really high and he knows that Jason and Bruce are taking notes.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Tall, dark, and handsome with the killer blue eyes and arms that resemble tree trunks. The guy, that when I was sleeping, you decided to break out of your apartment so that you could find comfort in those strong arms, only to be returned here. Why'd you do that?"

Tim doesn't know. He remembers waking up underneath his desk in some of the worst pain in his life to find Dick by him, picking him up and taking him home. He remembers waking up to Jason asleep and wanting to see Dick, and muscle memory taking over. The memory of the white light flashes through his mind. He can't explain and he knows it probably sounds strange as hell, but he thinks that Dick might just be connected to that white light. He doesn't know, but he has to investigate. And he knows that he needs to figure this out by himself, because Jason and Bruce will think it's just a crush, and it's not.

Just a crush.

Because Jason is right, Dick . . . something is the hottest man that Tim's ever seen in his life and the idea of Dick fucking him against a bed is something that he wouldn't turn down. Not with that hair, not with that smile, and not with those arms.

He's just got to figure how to do this without tipping off Jason and Bruce.

And that leaves . . . "He's cute," Tim mumbles, playing up the innocent young omega for all he's worth. Bruce won't want to think about Tim's sexuality further. Jason will think he's some innocent woodland creature. They'll leave him alone and then Tim can dig into the truth.

Just as he thought, Bruce balks at the idea of Tim having a crush on his barista, and Jason rolls his eyes over what he thinks as some crush that Tim doesn't have the guts to confess.

And Tim remembers hearing Dick snap and being somewhere else.

There's something going on with that man, and he's going to find out what it is if it's the last thing he does.

He finishes his breakfast to the sound of Jason teasing him about his crush and Bruce trying to make him stop, so it turns into Jason teasing Bruce about Tim's crush. Tim can feel his heat breaking, and he's already thinking about how to figure out the truth as soon as he can.

After he takes another nap on Bruce. His father is _really_ comfortable.

*

Three days later, he walks into the coffee shop with his heat fully done and without nearly as much sleep deprivation as he's used to. It's weird, and Tim isn't sure if he likes it. It doesn't matter, he just keeps his eyes focused on Dick, who's happily laughing as he hands people their drinks, his smile making his sky-blue eyes look almost electric. A knot forms in Tim's throat as he's greeted with the perfect specimen of alphan beauty, and Tim wonders if he can convince Dick to date him while Tim interrogates and investigates him.

That's not _too_ unethical, right?

Tim ignores his shaking hands as he gets in line, and smiles as brightly as he can when he gets to the front. He has a terrible feeling that he just looks sick.

Dick doesn't say anything about it though, just keeps his own smile on his face.

"Hey, Tim! How are you doing?" His voice is a deep baritone, incredibly pleasant, and Tim wants to be wrapped up into it like it's a blanket.

God, this is an _alpha_ in front of him, and all of Tim's plan is crumbling around him because he can't make his tongue move. He eventually manages to force a weak, "I'm okay."

Utter joy jumps through him when Dick's smile turns into something more relieved as he says, "God, am I glad to hear that. You worried me when you came in the utter day."

Tim winces as he thinks how terrible that must have been for Dick. "Yeah, I'm so sorry. I just wasn't-"

Dick holds a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Dude, biology is biology, you don't owe me any sort of explanation. I'm just glad you're alright. Now the biggest issue I have is this whole grape latte thing. I tried it. It's disgusting. Does it really taste good to you?"

The truthful answer is not really. It's not something he would call disgusting, but it's an unusual taste that wakes him up in the mornings and he can't define it as a good taste. He opts to shrug, and Dick breathes a sigh of relief. "Good, we can work at this. So as I was wiping the taste of that God abandoned drink, I started thinking of drinks that you would like more, but I realized I didn't know what you liked besides grape? Can you give me some tips and I can see if I have something in my pocket?"

Tim feels like his breath has been taken away. Dick thinks about him. Dick tried his drink. Hated it, but the first person that could honestly say they hated it and not just assume. Dick wants to make him a tastier drink. "I like marshmallows," he gets out, "so anything with that would be tasty."

Dick nods decisively. "Marshmallows, huh?" He smiles. "I got just the recipe. You trust me?"

Yeah. He does. Tim nods, and Dick smiles as he rings up something on the register, but he shakes his head when Tim starts to hand him the cash. "No worries, it's on me." He opens his mouth to argue, and Dick holds up his hand.

"Dude, I can make myself whatever I want to drink whenever I want and it won't cost me anything. And there's no one in line behind you, and we're about to enter the dead hours. It's _okay._ "

Tim takes a steadying breath, and nods. Okay. This is fine. Hot alpha barista just wants to make him a drink and doesn't expect to be paid at all, and he's smiling at Tim. God, he has such a beautiful smile and Tim just wants to blush.

Fuck, he thinks he is blushing.

He moves away from the counter, trying to fix his hair without it seeming obvious. He feels like he's brimming with anticipation, and his heart is pounding. He looks at his phone, but he can't actually read anything on it. He doesn't know what to do or what to say right now, so he chooses to stare at a wall until Dick calls his name.

"Tim?"

He's up like a shot, grabbing the drink from Dick's hands and bringing it to his lips and holy fuck, it's amazing. He can take marshmallows and chocolate and graham crackers and- "Did you make me a s'mores drink?"

Dick grins, and Tim feels like he's the center of the entire world. "Toasted marshmallow syrup, chocolate syrup, and graham cracker topping with a _respectable_ amount of espresso in it. You like?"

Tim nods. "It's amazing."

Dick claps his hands in delight, and laughs. "I fucking did it. Alright, go! Live life. Enjoy."

Tim laughs, and holds up his laptop case. "I was actually hoping to get some work done here. If that's okay?"

"I'm not the coffee shop police. And besides, we like it when people work here." He leans in close and whispers. "That's kind of the whole point."

His heart is still beating at a million times per minute, but he actually feels more steady. It doesn't take long to find a table and get settled, holding his coffee close to him like it's a precious treasure.

Dick made it for _him._ He feels absolutely ridiculous to be so happy about it, but it's the truth. Dick thought about him. He looks up to find Dick looking at him, and he quickly ducks his face down, turning bright red all over again.

He isn't sure if he's going to make it.

He sips his drink slowly, and tries to focus on his work. Actual work, WE work, but the words all blur together, and he finds himself spending time between focusing on his cases, or looking up to watch Dick, who's reading a mystery book. He wonders if it's good. He wonders if he should read it so he has a good reason to talk to Dick next time he comes in. He forces himself back to his work, but he can't stop getting distracted.

Dick has really nice arms.

It's not until he hears soft footsteps and smells plums and sugar that he's able to do something other than constantly focus on Dick.

"Hey," Helena says as she slides into the chair opposite Tim. "Jason told me about your hunk of a barista, and said this is where you'd be."

Damn Jason. Why can't he mind his own business?

"Is there a reason you're here?" he whispers. "Or is it just to embarrass me?"

Helena looks over at Dick, and Tim envies how casual she can make that look. "He _is_ hot," she notes. "Fantastic arms." She turns back to Tim. "You could definitely do worse. Physically at least. Of course. . . . This guy legally is a strange ghost." Tim's confused, but then it clicks. 

"You guys looked him _up?_ " he hisses. "Oh fuck. This is why you're here. You're here because Bruce and Jason knew I wouldn't yell at you." Helena shrugs, unashamed.

"Tim, don't pull that crap. You know that you would be doing if Jason started flirting with the guy at his local bookstore. You know that you would be doing it if anyone of us started to have feelings for a civilian. And Tim? You were going to do it when you got home later, and you could actually think when you're not around Mr. Hunkalicious."

He hates it when she's right. He glances at Dick, who's still invested in his book. "Fine. You're right. What did you find?"

Helena shakes her head. "Literally nothing. It's like he just popped into existence a week ago. Yes, he has enough documentation to get hired and to find a place to live, but he doesn't have a _life._ We've found Dick Grayson's all across the country for decades, but no one that can be that Dick Grayson. It's a fake name, Tim. It has to be."

Tim's hands still over his keyboard. "A fake name?"

Helena grabs his hand, and looks him in the eye. "Tim, be careful. I mean it. That man? Strong, handsome, but with scars? Muscles and a friendly deposition? Solid documentation, but he's clearly not really the person he claims to be? That man is someone that I call dangerous. Please, be careful."

A knot forms in his throat as his big sister holds his hand. She's right. Tim's been an idiot about Dick, trusting him without a thought. Like his drink? Dick could have easily poisoned his drink. He still might have, there's many slow-acting poisons in the world, and nausea bubbles up in his throat. His eyes start to blur, and Helena sweats. "Fuck, this is why I _didn't_ let Bruce or Jason come. Tim, you can still live your life. And he might have a very good reason for doing what he's doing. All I'm doing is just asking to be on your guard around him. I don't know him, and neither do you. And don't hesitate to call one of us if you feel you need to, or even have one of us follow you on dates." She reaches over to brush hair out of his face. "You mean too much to us for us to allow you to go in unprepared."

Tim nods. He understands what she's saying, but it still doesn't feel right. Helena sighs, and pushes over her chair, grabbing Tim's head and planting a kiss on it. "He's been watching us this entire time, when he asks what's wrong, just tell him the truth. And let yourself be open to having feelings for another person, Tim. You deserve it."

Does he? He isn't sure. But he trusts Helena so much, in some ways more than himself, and if she thinks that he deserves to have this, then he's going to take a chance.

He's going to believe her.

"I'll stay with you for a while, make Bruce feel better too. But just relax where you are right now. And don't worry, it's all going to be okay. Let me just get a drink."

She stands up, and Tim misses the warmth of her arms, but he keeps his eyes on her as she walks confidently up to Dick. She smiles at him, and he smiles back, and the transaction seems so _normal._ Tim can't look that normal around Dick, and he envies her so much for a moment. It's not even a full two minutes before she has her drink in her hand and she's walking back to Tim.

She takes a deep breath as she sits down, shaking her head. "Okay. He's even hotter in person. And he's checking you out right now, so Tim, all strangeness aside, I highly encouraged you to get that Dick."

Tim blinks at her. "Really?"

"Look, what human being can really turn down that pun?"

"Uh, you're the first one you made it, so clearly, many people."

"Bruce and Jason are sticks in the mud, they won't know a good pun if it hits them in the face."

As he dissolves into arguing with his big sister, he sees Dick out of the corner of his eye.

Dick's looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm salazarastark on tumblr as well, so follow me [here](https://salazarastark.tumblr.com/)! I'm not as active as I'd like to be, but I'm always up for talking about my fics or anything else!


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